


Even the Hourglass Stops

by uaevuon



Series: Rotation [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Big Bang!!! on Ice, Body Worship, Bondage, Comeplay, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Illustrated, Inverted Nipples, M/M, Marathon Sex, Maybe A Little Plot, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Clamps, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reverse Daddy Kink, Rimming, Scent Kink, Sex Toys, Spanking, Switching, Wand Vibrator, emphasis on bang, hypersensitive viktor, sexually experienced Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaevuon/pseuds/uaevuon
Summary: Yuuri’s sex toy collection causes lots and lots of creative sex. [dom!yuuri/sub!viktor]





	Even the Hourglass Stops

**Author's Note:**

> all of my yuri on ice fics thus far have been written with pretty much the same idea of post-canon events, so you can check out the series for context, but it's not really necessary since this is literally all just porn. if you do decide to read the others: these fuckings take place interspersed throughout the timeline of "we'll turn it around" and significantly before the events of "puppy". 
> 
> title from “you only live once” by w. hatano
> 
> both illustrations are by [amarokster](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/post/171073932768/)

Little known fact: Yuuri Katsuki has a rather impressive collection of sex toys.

There are a few people who know this, of course. The first being Takeshi Nishigori, who bought Yuuri a fleshlight as a gag gift for his sixteenth birthday, and was shocked to hear Yuuri mumble “Now I’ll need a bigger box.”

The second was Phichit Chulanont, who could not possibly live with Yuuri as his roommate for three years and not know this fact about him.

Seriously. It was not possible. Yuuri was nearly silent when he fisted his dick but as soon as anything went in his ass, he was loud enough to wake the entire block; his roommate in a tiny two-bedroom apartment stood no chance. This, Phichit knew from experience, and it had made him go on the hunt for whatever it was that made the buzzy noise that harmonized with Yuuri’s screams.

There were, in fact, many buzzy things. More buzzy things, in the full spectrum of colors, than Phichit had ever seen in his life, and he had been to the LGBT student org’s twice-annual local adult novelty store introduction trip.

Yuuri had explained, quite red in the face, that his favorite at the time was the oddly-shaped one that was about the length of Phichit’s forearm. No, he couldn’t fit it all in, but it felt so good, and then Yuuri apparently overheated and shut right up.

(There is one Instagram post, timestamped November 2014, that is a photo of thirty-seven sex toys of all varieties, arranged in a neat little rainbow on an unidentified white bedspread. The caption reads “part of a friend’s secret collection” and has 206 likes. Yuuri, luckily, hasn’t followed Phichit long enough to know about it.)

The third person to know about Yuuri’s collection was none other than Viktor Nikiforov. He had found the box under Yuuri’s bed while looking for a different collection altogether; the posters of himself that Mari had said Yuuri must have shoved away somewhere. The toys were in the same box as the hidden posters, actually, which was interesting enough in itself, but god, _there were so many_. Vibrators, cock rings, nipple clamps, dildos of all shapes and sizes, and a few things that Viktor couldn’t even imagine a use for. Like the mushroom-looking thing attached to a long cord; it looked like a back massager of some sort, but if it was in this box, it must have a more… particular purpose.

Yuuri found Viktor staring at said mushroomy thing, turning it around in his hands, staring puzzled at its controls.

He took a deep breath, and “Have you never seen a magic wand before?” burst from his lips.

Viktor looked up at him, blushing to his ears. “Magic…?”

“Here.” Yuuri held out his hand. Viktor passed over the wand to him, and Yuuri plugged it in and switched it on.

It buzzed loudly, strong enough that its vibrations were visible, and Yuuri’s hand shook while holding on to it.

All Viktor could manage to say was, “You have all this and you said your Eros was _katsudon_?!”

Yuuri looked down, sheepish, and said, “What did you expect me to say? That my Eros was _you_?” He gestured vaguely towards Viktor with the wand, then tensed up when he caught himself.

Viktor blinked. “Yes. That’s exactly what I was hoping you would say.”

Yuuri groaned and switched the wand off. He stored it back in the box, making sure every piece was carefully in their cloth bags to keep incompatible materials from touching, and, with a pointed look, put his posters on top before shoving it back under the bed. “I’ve barely used any of these since you got here. I didn’t want you to hear me, and then we were… well.”

“Making love?”

Yuuri grumbled something inaudible.

“Yuuri, I could hear you through the walls anyway.”

Yuuri grumbled again, this time with a whinier edge to his tone.

“You always sounded so delicious…” Viktor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri’s shoulders, pulling him to lean back. “But I like hearing you better without the barrier.”

Yuuri turned into Viktor’s hold, his lips immediately finding the softest, most tender spot on Viktor’s neck to kiss.

“Ah, Yuuri…” Viktor hummed, his fingers fisting in the back of Yuuri’s shirt and hair. He whimpered, and again a little louder when Yuuri suddenly sucked hard, then rolled the skin between his teeth to darken the mark. “Hmm, you can still use them. I don’t mind.”

“I like you better,” Yuuri said, low and dark, before he pushed Viktor down on the bed, onto his back, and proceeded to have his way with him in Yuuri’s childhood bedroom, not for the first time, nor the last.

Yuuri took his time opening Viktor up with his fingers. They never went so long without sex that it was difficult to get Viktor to relax, and he welcomed Yuuri’s slick fingers with moans and pleading pleasure. He welcomed Yuuri’s tongue against his loosened hole with a loud gasp, and then cried out when Yuuri gripped his cheeks, spreading his ass open, his thumbs digging in just beyond where his lips and tongue turned Viktor to liquid for as boneless as he felt. Viktor took no regard for volume as he cried Yuuri’s name out, begging him to push deeper, suck harder, and eventually Yuuri took his mouth away and plunged three fingers, dripping wet with lube, into Viktor’s twitching hole.

“That good?” Yuuri asked, his eyes warm and full of love. Viktor felt the smooth edge of the ring on Yuuri’s finger slide inside him and he babbled something romantic in no existing Earthly language. Yuuri’s fingers pushed at his inner walls, thrusting into him, aiming at his prostate -- direct hit.

“Yes! More, please.”

Yuuri obliged, warmed too deep in his heart to deny Viktor a thing. “Yes, my Vitya.” He kept up the pressure, the short, quick thrusts of his fingers until Viktor’s cries turned into a tense silence, his back arching beautifully, his hands gripping at the sheets.

Viktor released a heavy breath, and hummed in contentment, his hips wiggling as Yuuri continued to pleasure him inside, but more gently, his fingers simply rubbing over the sensitive gland.

“Will you fuck me, Yuuri? My Yuuri?”

“Mhm. If you think you’re ready. You sure you don’t want me to finger you a little more?”

Viktor shook his head. “No, my love. I want you inside me, all the way.”

“Are you sure you deserve it?” Yuuri asked. “You _were_ just going through my things.”

Viktor had no excuse for that. His curiosity got the best of him. “I’m… I’m sorry, Yuuri.”

“Are you _really_ sorry?”

Viktor looked at his position; on his back, under his fiancé, one prostate orgasm into a night of what promised to be really good sex, all because he looked for Yuuri’s posters of him and stumbled upon his sex toys. “No, but I’ll make it up to you.”

“And how will you do that?” Yuuri asked.

“You… You can use any of your toys on me.”

“Does that benefit me or you?” Yuuri asked. How he could be so serious while they were both achingly hard was beyond Viktor’s comprehension.

“That depends on which one you choose.”

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Just one? Hm. Get on the bed.”

Viktor did as he was told. He sat on Yuuri’s bed, biting his smiling lips together, swaying side to side in anticipation as Yuuri opened his Fun Box back up and dug through it nearly to the bottom.

“Face down, and put both pillows under your hips.” Yuuri’s instructions were short, but not harsh; his tone was warm and soft like a blanket.

Viktor turned over, getting on top of Yuuri’s very full pillows, and looked away, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

Yuuri got on the bed, straddling Viktor’s legs. “We’ve never really had to use our safe words before. But if you need them, use them. You’re not obligated to like this just because you said I could do what I want.”

“I know, Yuuri. I will if I need to.”

“Would it be okay if I…” Yuuri trailed off. “Hm. Um.”

“What is it?”

“Never mind. This is enough.”

“Yu~uri!” Viktor whined. “Tell me.”

Yuuri rested the hand not holding his chosen implement of pleasure on Viktor’s ass, cradling the cheek and then squeezing. “Can I…”

“Fuck me?”

“Well, yes. I was hoping to. But no -- I was going to ask if you wouldn’t mind me spanking you. Just a little!”

Viktor arched his back and pushed his ass out towards Yuuri. “Have your way with me, my Yuuri. My ass is yours to do with what you wish.”

Yuuri breathed out hard. “Oh. Okay.” He squeezed a handful of Viktor’s ass again, then let it go. Yuuri lifted Viktor’s foot, making his bend his knee to bring him into a very deep quad stretch. The he fit a leather cuff around Viktor’s ankle. He did the same to Viktor’s other leg, then brought his arms back and bound his wrists in the same way. “Is this okay?” he asked, hands hovering over the quick-release trigger hooks holding the hogtie together.

Viktor was still blinking back surprise. The stretch was nice, as nice as it was slightly painful on his hardworking muscles; he was sure he’d be sore later, but it wouldn’t be debilitating, and he would be sore in other places regardless. And the way that this position forced his face and chest down into the bed made him feel so perfectly helpless and under Yuuri’s control. He couldn’t possibly deny either of them the pleasure.

“This is very okay,” Viktor said. He tried to move his arms and legs; he had a little bit of wiggle room, but for the most part he wasn’t going anywhere. “And look! There’s enough space between the binds for you to fuck me or spank me!” He wiggled his butt again for emphasis.

As if to test that statement, Yuuri’s hand came down flat on the meaty underside of Viktor’s ass.

Viktor yelped. It didn’t hurt so much, as Yuuri knew much better than to go full force into the first slap, but it was a surprise. “Ngh…”

“Good?”

“Mnn.” Viktor mashed his face into the mattress and, with great effort, pushed his butt out more. It stung, god did it sting, but it also felt really really good.

“Words, Vitya.”

“Good,” Viktor gasped out. “More.”

Yuuri’s hand came down again, harder this time, leaving a pink mark that faded quickly. Viktor shouted again, and Yuuri pushed down on the back of his head. “Don’t yell. The walls are thin. Anyone could hear you.”

“Says the man who comes crying and screaming my name when he bottoms--” Viktor managed, before Yuuri shoved him down harder, cutting off the rest of his sentence: _and then manages to look his family in the eye the next morning while wearing my oversized shirt like a dress and no pants, leaving only the worst of the hickeys I gave him bared to the world_.

So they were both kind of exhibitionists. It could be worse.

Yuuri pushed two fingers into Viktor’s hole, using the lube that was already there to ease in, and he listened close for the sigh that took all of Viktor’s snappy comebacks right out of his mouth. He curled his fingers just as another slap came down on Viktor’s ass, and the joining pleasure and pain intertwined perfectly. Viktor squirmed, and his cock hung heavy and thick between his legs, ready to burst at a moment’s notice, but they had so much farther to go tonight. Viktor knew Yuuri wouldn’t touch his cock for a long while, maybe not even until morning if he felt inclined to deprive Viktor. After all, Yuuri had legendary stamina, built for a world-class athlete and a master of marathon sex.

Yuuri’s hand came down again, and again, turning Viktor’s ass pink and then red. All the while he fingered Viktor gently, lovingly, teasing his rim with a thumb, applying a delicious pressure to his sweetest spot.

Viktor squirmed and moaned, so loud and shameless he would have been certain the whole inn could hear it if he could spare a care to think about it. Luckily in Hasetsu they were the more relaxed sort of people around, and thus more open about such things, so whenever Viktor or Yuuri got too loud they got as many well-wishes and congratulations from the neighbors as they did teasing remarks from Mari (and Mari really did tease them quite a lot, with distressed snark and genuine fannish enthusiasm in equal amounts). But that was beside the point: Viktor was rubbing his chest into Yuuri’s rough, cheap sheets; they were leftovers from college, slightly threadbare in the center and torn at one corner, not that comfortable for sleeping but perfect for rough sex. He teased his nipples as best he could without the use of his hands and felt the nubs go rock hard as soon as they were exposed.

Yuuri stopped spanking him, and instead gripped the crossover straps of his hogtie set and stilled Viktor’s movements. He drove his fingers into Viktor’s ass mercilessly, revelling in Viktor’s frenzied, ecstatic moans, and didn’t stop until he felt Viktor clench hard around him, his whole body tensing up for the space of a completely silent breath.

Then Viktor went boneless, sucking in loud lungfuls of air and letting them out on a vocal groan.

Viktor trembled, unable to completely release the tension in his body because of how he was tied up. The buzz of orgasm stayed under his skin, hot and cold and sparkling and washing over him in waves that didn’t stop because Yuuri’s fingers didn’t, though they slowed down enough to bring Viktor back to Earth for just a moment.

“How do you feel?” Yuuri asked.

“Good,” Viktor gasped out. “Green. Yes. _Yuuri_.”

After that, Viktor lost track of time and the difference between what was orgasm and what was not; Yuuri’s fingers were relentless, driving into Viktor over and over, rubbing his hole raw even as Yuuri squirted more lube into him every few minutes. Still, Viktor moaned with abandon -- Yuuri’s name, every endearment and plea his muddled brain could blurt out. He pushed back against Yuuri’s onslaught as best he could with his knees tingling and his shoulders barely touching the bed.

Eventually, Yuuri slowed, his fingers just teasing the reddened rim of Viktor’s hole. Viktor whimpered, wanting more.

Yuuri leaned over Viktor’s back, his belly pressing into Viktor’s bound hands and feet. “How do you feel, Vitya?” He sounded proud, and he was. Ever since the first time he’d gotten Viktor to climax without ejaculating, he’d prided himself on his ability to do so again, and again, and _again_.

“Mhm,” was all Viktor had the vocabulary for. It wasn’t precisely an answer or even their safe words, but they had talked this through enough over the past months; Viktor meant it, even when he was so far gone he couldn’t remember his name. He wouldn’t get that far out of his head if he didn’t want it.

“You ready to take it all?” Yuuri asked. He whispered right into Viktor’s ear, his breath tickling the sensitive shell. “You want my cock inside you?”

“Mhm. Yuuri.”

“You want me, Daddy?”

“ _Augh!_ ” Viktor moaned. He loved it, fucking loved it when Yuuri did things like that -- like calling him Daddy, or Coach, or by his full name, adopted patronymic and all, when he was so helpless and falling apart beneath him. It called to a glaring forefront how far removed their fucking was from his public persona; how different Viktor-in-bed was from Viktor-on-ice.

“I’m coming in, Vitya. I’m gonna make a mess inside you.” Yuuri sounded as breathless as Viktor felt; Viktor knew, in the pea-sized bit of his brain that was still thinking, that if he turned his head to look, Yuuri would be bright red in an embarrassed blush because no matter how many times he turned Viktor into mush beneath him, Yuuri would still have his inhibitions to break through.

But he _would_ break through them.

“Do it. Mess me up, Yuuri. Ruin me.” Viktor groaned, long and low, as he felt the head of Yuuri’s cock, slicked with lube, press against his gaping hole. He didn’t know how many fingers Yuuri had finished with, but he felt loose around his thick cock. “Ye-es…” Viktor sobbed as he felt the head go in, then breathed loud and harsh as Yuuri sunk into him inch by thicker inch.

Viktor had always considered himself gifted in the genital department; he had a long cock, not monstrous but definitely impressive, and with a proportional girth so that it didn’t look like a noodle. His balls were large as well, but tight, the seam down the middle of his sac stark and raised from the surrounding skin. He’d always found it funny how he, with his rather significant endowment, matched the various symbols of phallic abundance placed around the onsen.

Yuuri was another matter. When soft, Yuuri’s cock was misleadingly small; hard, it grew significantly in size. While his hard cock wasn’t particularly long, it was _thick_ , so much that the stretch to get Viktor to relax enough to take it made sex run long every night. So for him to be _loose_ around Yuuri was a rare treasure, and probably one Yuuri had planned for.

“Ngh, Vitya, you feel so good…” Yuuri moaned, finally seated fully inside Viktor. “Fuck-- I was planning to fuck you all day. I’ve had --” Yuuri gasped, pulling out and thrusting into Viktor. “I’ve had a, a vibrating plug in me all day. You didn’t notice.”

Viktor groaned. Yuuri always came so much when he fucked himself first, but _all day_? Viktor expected to be gushing out his fluids all night. “S-so you _have_ been using your toys,” Viktor teased. What if Yuuri had planned this all along, had deliberately made Viktor stumble upon his box of toys?

With the next thrust, none of that mattered.

Yuuri leaned his whole body weight into the middle of the hogtie, holding Viktor’s ankles and wrists nearly against his body. Viktor hissed at the stretch, and Yuuri prepared to back off, but then Viktor moaned, “ _Good, yes, good_ ,” and then babbled his way into a prayer of nothing but Yuuri’s name, so Yuuri shoved his cock in again, grunting with the force.

“God, Vitya…” Yuuri shouted his approval in a throaty moan, over and over as he snapped his hips against Viktor’s firm ass. He claimed Viktor again and again, thrusting with the full force of his muscular, graceful, precise legs, his thick thighs working hard to wring every last drop of pleasure from Viktor’s body. “You’re so good, you feel so good, you’re so good for me…”

Viktor whined, adoring the praise, and if his cock wasn’t trapped between him and the sheets he might have spent himself all over them right then.

Instead, Yuuri slapped Viktor hard on the ass at the end of a pull out, then thrust in just as hard. Viktor sobbed in earnest, tears beginning to leak from his eyes. “More! Yuuri!”

Yuuri smacked him again, and if Viktor hadn’t been begging for more he might have wondered if it was _too_ hard. Viktor’s ass would be sore regardless, but he did care, after all. Yuuri clenched the cheek he’d just slapped, digging his fingers in hard, claiming him roughly with his cock.

“Vitya. Vitya I’m going to come in you.” Yuuri gasped, feeling the rapid buildup of his orgasm low in his belly and high in his thighs. “Are you ready? Ready for me to fill you up?”

“Mnn, ugh, yes, yes, Yuuri, do it! Fill me. Mark me. Give me _everything._ ”

“Viktor… Vitya.”

“Haah…” Viktor tugged at his restraints, a force of habit as usually by now he would be bracing himself against a wall or headboard. “Ye-eeeeeessss… fuck, _Yuuri_!” Viktor panted into the mattress, and he sniffled, rubbing his face against the fitted sheet. “Yuuri,” he whispered, like it was a secret. “I love you.”

Yuuri lost it. All his control, his composure, this persona he took on to dominate Viktor the way they both loved, it all came crashing down on those three words. He came inside Viktor, still thrusting short and sharp, his release dripping out around his cock while there was still more to come.

Yuuri leaned down and curled over Viktor’s back, not putting his full weight down and crushing him but instead just soaking up their closeness. “I love you too, Vitya,” he gasped out, while chills raced up his back and down his arms, and his cock throbbed inside Viktor.

Viktor mumbled something; Yuuri didn’t think it was real words but it sounded happy and content despite the tears leaking from the corners of Viktor’s eyes.

“Are you ready to come, Daddy?” Yuuri asked, sounding completely worn out, a slight whine in his throat as his cock still throbbed within Viktor.

“Mhm.”

“Okay. You want to come in me? Fill me up with everything you saved up while I fingerfucked you?” His coarse words didn’t match his soft tone.

Viktor nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do, Yuuri. I want all of you. I want to fill you up with me so deep you never get it out.”

Yuuri laughed; a hazy, post-orgasm laugh that went directly to Viktor’s far-too-hard dick. Viktor whimpered.

Yuuri pulled out and thumbed at Viktor’s hole, watched it clench and release a stream of Yuuri’s cum. The fluids dripped onto the bed and dribbled down Viktor’s thigh, sticky and stringy, and Viktor moaned at the way it tickled his sensitive flesh. Yuuri unclasped the hogtie, but let Viktor keep the cuffs on while he turned him gently on his back. Yuuri got back on top of Viktor immediately, straddling his hips and leaning back, lifting his (in Viktor’s opinion) far-too-perfect balls out of the way as much as he could so that Viktor could watch the plug come out of him. The thing was still buzzing after a full day inside of him, which Viktor found astonishing. Yuuri switched the plug off and tossed it to the side; he lubed Viktor’s cock and lined him up with no more prep. He didn’t need it; the plug was just as thick as Viktor.

As Yuuri sank down on Viktor’s cock, he watched his fiance’s face, waiting for a reaction. He didn’t have to wait long; Viktor’s mouth fell open immediately and he whined.

“I’m going to come so fast, Yuuri. I won’t last, Yuuri. Yuuri, Yuuri, _Yuuri_!”

Viktor spilled only halfway inside Yuuri, having waited through innumerable very trying experiences with Yuuri being far too kind to his sensitive body and mind to hold out any longer. He regretted nothing, not even when he screamed as he came. Yuuri’s parents already knew they were fucking, they must at this point; what was a little more confirmation?

“Oh fuck, Viktor, that’s so much!” Yuuri threw his head back, rocking on Viktor’s hips as he stroked his cock, pushing through the overstimulation. It hurt more than he liked, but it was worth it; he came a second time in moments, in tiny spurts all over Viktor’s chest.

Yuuri leaned over Viktor, trembling arms planted on the bed on either side of Viktor’s chest, which rose and fell with breaths as deep and desperate as Yuuri’s.

“Vitya…” Yuuri breathed, like a prayer, or a secret, as if the whole of Hasetsu hadn’t just heard them come.

“My Yuuri.” Viktor smiled up at him, his arms coming off the bed to shakily reach for him.

Yuuri carefully dropped himself down, laying on Viktor without minding the mess between them. Viktor’s softening cock slipped out of Yuuri, and Yuuri’s hips gave an involuntary nudge that had them both groaning, halfway between pleasure and pain.

Viktor wrapped his stiff arms around Yuuri, and Yuuri slid his under Viktor’s shoulders.

“I’ll clean up, just, just give me a minute…” Yuuri turned his head into Viktor’s neck, trying to catch his breath on lungfuls of Viktor’s thick post-sex smell, sweat and lust and the last bit of his everyday cologne blooming alongside his natural scent under Yuuri’s nose. Yuuri shifted, following the scent to its strongest under Viktor’s arm. He took in deep lungfuls of it, willing his body to have enough energy left to just _move_ , if only for a minute. Cuddling would make up most of their aftercare, but they would both regret waking up in the morning, stuck together with crusty cum and the same all over their thighs and the bed beneath them.

Also, Yuuri would have to attend to the dog he could hear padding down the hall. This was routine; Makkachin would fall asleep every night in the dining room, and then, regardless of whether Viktor and Yuuri were fucking loudly, she would wake up and come find them.

Sure enough, moments later Yuuri heard her whining at the door, her paws stroking the frame where a bit of light spilled out.

Yuuri groaned and finally heaved himself up. He let Makkachin in, then threw on Viktor’s robe, forgoing the short pants, and snuck out to the shower rooms. He came back with a small towel, damp but not dripping wet, and wiped himself and Viktor down as best he could before leaving it in his laundry. He removed Viktor’s cuffs; Makkachin took up her rightful throne at the end of the bed, and Viktor dragged Yuuri under the sheets with him.

The twin bed was far too small for two adult men and a fully grown poodle, but they cuddled close and made it work.

\---

Months later, Yuuri’s special box was the first one he mailed to Russia.

Viktor was sad to see it go; it would be a week at least before he would see its contents again, and he had grown very attached to some of Yuuri’s toys. He also wouldn’t see Yuuri for even longer, as they were due to separate for nearly two weeks surrounding their national competitions. Viktor needed the practice; they both did, of course, but Viktor even more so. He had come up with bits and pieces of new choreography over the last six months but he would have to rush now, throwing together full programs to music he had chosen on the flight back to Japan from the Grand Prix Final, while Yuuri slept, halfway in his embrace.

A week of preparation was not enough. Viktor sent his bed ahead of him, as well as most of his clothes, but everything else he left, with a flurry of apologies, up to the Katsukis. While they assured him it was no trouble, and they were happy to help, he knew they didn’t need the extra work.

On top of it all, he had to leave Makkachin behind, so he wouldn’t even have his best friend of the last ten years by his side. This would be the loneliest month of Viktor’s life. What with his general emotional distance from his rinkmates, and his terrible but long-developed habit of ignoring his coach whenever possible, Viktor knew his only saving grace from sinking down into the hollow emotionless pit his life had been over a year ago was the certainty that Yuuri, his life and love, his inspiration, would be back in his arms in only two weeks’ time.

He was lonely, still. But, if nothing else, at least he would have Yuuri’s sex toys.

When a very disgruntled-looking delivery person buzzed his apartment, Viktor’s equally disgruntled landlord called him to let him know that she was _not_ bringing in his boxes, and she expected them all to be moved before sunset.

Viktor liked to believe it was his long-time landlord’s way of showing her love. After all, he hadn’t been late on a payment since he moved in, even while he’d been away for the past eight months, and he had lived there for years. He never had wild parties, nor any disruptive guests or loud sex, and Makkachin had never caused any damage to the property, even as a puppy. She couldn’t hate him _that_ much.

Viktor hauled all the boxes in on his own after practice, and before the door even shut behind him he was tearing open the box marked “MISC ESSENTIALS” and digging through for the steel prostate stimulator he’d quickly become addicted to after Yuuri allowed him blanket use of anything in the box, weeks ago. It was in his ass as soon as he had his pants off, and he came on the floor in his entranceway with Yuuri’s name on his lips.

\---

Yuuri may have sent the box ahead, but he kept a few toys for himself.

One was simply a piece he didn’t want Viktor to find: an enormous soft silicone dildo with ridges and thick bumps that didn’t resemble anything close to human. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed of the toy, exactly. It had been a gift from one of Yuuri’s more eccentric one-night-stands in college, a hockey player with a lot of very enthusiastic and well-endowed friends; and it was a gift he got used to owning (and using) over the years. Mostly, Yuuri didn’t want Viktor to hurt himself with some over-eager attempts to fit the whole thing inside himself on the first try, or without hours of preparation first. Yuuri had tried, and he was convinced it was impossible to actually take it all.

Another was a set of nipple clamps that were relatively new. He hadn’t used them yet, and those were actually a surprise for Viktor, whose puffy, delicious, and ridiculously sensitive nipples would likely take well to them.

And finally, the magic wand, with all its attachments. This was Yuuri’s favorite these days, the top model on the market, an indulgence that he normally wouldn’t have splurged on but it was so, so worth it for the mind-blowingly intense orgasms he could bring himself to if he used it just right.

At Yu-Topia, there was no way to wait until everyone was out of the house to masturbate. That was a near-impossibility; someone was always home, tending to the inn’s needs, to the surge of new customers and new tourists attracted there by Viktor and Yuuri’s notorious presence. So Yuuri stuffed towels in his mouth, stuck his headphones in his ears, and FaceTimed Viktor while they both worked themselves into exhausted bliss together.

The night before Yuuri was due to fly out, he abandoned his inhibitions, threw the towels aside, and sat himself right down on the prostate massager wand attachment, his moan echoing in the walls of his tiny bedroom and the boxes piled high around his bed. He rode the wand, thighs clenched tighter than his hands around the handle, fucking himself down on it while Viktor, consumed with lust on the other side of the screen, called his name, over and over.

They came at the same time, even half a world away.

Yuuri’s back arched as he nearly screamed Viktor’s name. The gold medal from Japan’s Nationals stuck to his chest with sweat, and Russia’s silver stuck to Viktor’s on the laptop screen. Yuuri stayed in that position for a moment, his thighs shaking, unable to so much as move to turn the wand off, and finally he released his breath and relaxed.

He heard a crack, and the massager stopped vibrating.

“Oh, _fuck_.”

Yuuri switched off the toy and unplugged it while Viktor blinked at him from the other end of the video call.

“What’s wrong, my Yuuri?”

“I broke it.” Yuuri held up the pieces of the once-wand so Viktor could see; the round head, still with its silicone attachment, and the handle, both with wires exposed where they had once joined.

“You haven’t had the chance to use it on me yet!” Viktor complained.

“How you have the energy to whine when you’ve just come, but not to clean yourself up, is beyond me,” Yuuri mumbled.

VIktor grinned into the camera, his hand trailing up the mess of drying cum on his chest. “Mm, it’s not that I don’t have the energy. I just like being messy like this.”

“You like being covered in cum?”

Viktor raised his eyebrows. “Yes,” he said, like a challenge.

And god, did Yuuri want to take him up on that.

\---

Yuuri’s plane landed in Russia and he wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep for approximately two and a half years. But then he’d miss Worlds, and he’d also miss Viktor, neither of which were things he particularly wanted to give up at this point.

So he picked up his two enormous suitcases from baggage claim and Makkachin from her handlers and pulled them all towards the line of taxis, squinting against the sunrise as he searched for the pet-friendly taxi Viktor had called for him.

Yuuri had insisted Viktor not pick him up at the airport. Viktor had practice, which started well before sunrise, and had left Yuuri with a set of keys besides. Yuuri barely had to speak to his driver, which was all for the best as he was still rather underwhelming in his abilities with the Russian language, and found himself in front of Viktor’s apartment building in no time.

Yuuri tested out the passcode Viktor had given him to the street-level entry, and let himself in. To his luck, there was an elevator at the end of the hall, though it was tiny, and he squeezed himself and Makkachin in along with his suitcases. He inserted the smaller of the two keys, as Viktor had directed, into the slot above the six elevator buttons, and turned it to the right.

The elevator brought him to the top floor, and opened to a hallway with two doors, facing each other about halfway down. Viktor’s was on the left.

Viktor’s. Soon to be theirs, together.

Yuuri left his suitcases in the entryway, took notice of the half-unpacked boxes strewn about, said hello to the bust of Jackson Haines, Inventor Of Modern Figure Skating, and picked his way to Viktor’s bedroom. He left his coat, hat, scarf, gloves, and shoes on the floor, and with half a thought left in his mind decided to remove his snow-soaked pants too before he collapsed into bed, sound asleep.

\---

Everything smelled like Viktor.

Which would make sense, Yuuri realised, as he was in Viktor’s bed, in Viktor’s apartment, in Viktor’s Russia -- and maybe he would start thinking of all that, or, at least, the bed and apartment, as _theirs_ , when it started to smell like him too. As it was, everything was Viktor’s, and Yuuri was right in the middle of it.

Where Yuuri’s head had buried itself, half-beneath a pillow, it smelled like spray deodorant and armpit. The pillow itself mostly smelled of sweat, and faintly of alcohol, with the slightest trace of Viktor’s cologne, which he rarely wore. Viktor had worn it to some sort of press conference the week prior, so that must have been the reason Yuuri could smell it. He was never more glad than in this moment for Viktor’s acceptance of Yuuri’s thing for his fiance’s scent, as Viktor clearly had left his unwashed sheets on the bed for him, rather than change them as Yuuri knew Viktor would have done for anyone else. It was comforting, and made Yuuri feel like he was already with Viktor, surrounded by him in his half-awake state.

The room as a whole smelled like ice, not just because it was winter, but because Viktor always smelled a bit like a skating rink. Yuuri was certain every figure skater carried that scent around, but Viktor left it on everything he touched, like he was the source of winter itself.

Yuuri moaned, just a little bit, because the bed smelled like Viktor’s lust, too.

His phone beeped at him, and Yuuri realised that he’d been awoken by a text message.

 _From: Vitya_ ❄

_Wake up, sleeping beauty. Your prince awaits!_

Yuuri smiled; Viktor’s longtime love of fairy tales was familiar at this point. Of the small stack of books he’d brought with him to Japan, most were fairy tales or fantasy classics, their spines worn with plenty of re-readings. Similar books rested on the nightstand, one with a tasselled bookmark peeking out.

Yuuri stumbled out of bed, and he threw on a pair of Viktor’s sweatpants from the dresser as he was far too lethargic to open up his suitcases; he turned up the hems so as not to let them drag on the ground. He noticed Makkachin was asleep in her bed, and her bowl of food that Viktor had left out in anticipation of her return was about half-full. Yuuri woke Makkachin with gentle scritches on her head and neck and she slowly got to her feet, allowing Yuuri to lead her out the door.

His running shoes had dried out while he slept the day away, as had his coat and other outerwear. In the early afternoon light he made his way down the street, breaking into a light jog when Viktor followed up his earlier message with an address. Yuuri opened it in a map on his phone and let the directions play out through his earbuds; Makkachin bounded happily beside him, like they were racing.

Racing towards Viktor.

Viktor must have made it to their meeting point before Yuuri; he bounced in place beside Yuri Plisetsky, their breaths coming in visible puffs, until he heard Yuuri’s sneakers hitting the sidewalk, a pattern of steps as familiar as Yuuri himself after they’d run together every morning and afternoon for months. He turned and his eyes lit up; he raised a hand in greeting and shouted Yuuri’s name in the moment before Yuuri crashed into him.

He heard Makkachin’s excited barking and Yuri’s aggravated teenage huff, but Yuuri just tucked his face into Viktor’s chest, inhaling his icy, sweaty post-practice scent. He felt Viktor curl into him, his cold nose and lips pressing against Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri clutched at the back of Viktor’s wool coat as best as his half-frozen fingers could manage. “I’m home,” he whispered, half wishing Viktor wouldn’t hear it.

But he did, if his tiny gasp was any indication, and in a voice more watery than Yuuri’s eyes, he responded. “Welcome home, my Yuuri.”

“Get a room,” Yuri mumbled, and then something in Russian that was beyond Yuuri’s comprehension but which made Viktor laugh.

“What did he say?” Yuuri asked, without removing his nose from the warmth of Viktor’s cashmere scarf.

“That at least I have good taste,” Viktor said, and he kissed Yuuri’s neck.

“I did not!” Yuri shouted.

Viktor ignored him. His eyelashes fluttered against Yuuri’s ear, tickling. “Mm. Your hair got longer.” He pulled back to look Yuuri in the eye, hands still on Yuuri’s shoulders. “We’re going to get lunch, and then back to the skating complex. Yurio and I have off-ice training; you have paperwork.”

“Where are we going for lunch?” Yuuri asked. He seemed reluctant to separate from Viktor, leaning in as close as he could.

Viktor indulged Yuuri and brought him back in close. “There’s a cafe, which used to be a bakery, that I’ve been going to since I was a child. They give Yurio candy because the grandmothers running it think of him as a child, and I love watching him turn into a tomato when they do it.”

“Hey!”

Viktor lifted his head finally, and turned halfway out of Yuuri’s embrace, but still held him tight. “Don’t complain, Yurochka, we’re buying you food.”

“ _Don’t call me that either!_ ”

\---

The food was delicious, and the paperwork was piles upon piles of tedious Russian that a woman with Viktor’s word of trust and a framed law degree behind her explained to Yuuri in patient, heavily accented English, directing him to sign in the appropriate spaces, check off the appropriate boxes, fill in the appropriate blanks.

He was on the last page when Viktor knocked and let himself in; his staring from the corner was distracting, mostly because all Yuuri wanted to do all afternoon was wrestle Viktor into bed and push into his heated body until Viktor screamed celestial worship in Yuuri’s name, until Yuuri matched him in volume and in desperation, until they were both satisfied -- but when it came to each other, Viktor and Yuuri were never satisfied. So Yuuri finished up his signatures, frustrated with desire.

Makkachin followed the pair as they walked home, sniffing their shoes and seemingly random spots along the route, re-familiarizing herself with her home. She peed on her favorite sign post, claiming her territory. The sun had set, and the air was growing chilly, so Yuuri gave Viktor one of his gloves and put their linked hands between them in his coat pocket.

Inside Viktor’s apartment, Viktor cupped his hands under Yuuri’s jaw and kissed him, so gently, for the first time in months, cherishing the press of his chapped lips warming against his own. Quietly, so as not to disturb the stillness of the dim apartment just yet, he murmured desperate instructions to Yuuri, and Yuuri responded in kind. Yuuri went off to shower, and Viktor fed Makkachin before crawling onto his bed, stark naked.

Yuuri emerged in steam with one of Viktor’s overlarge fluffy white towels wrapped around his waist. His hair was still dripping wet, water sparkling on his chest and shoulders. He borrowed Viktor’s slippers, smirking as he slipped out of the room and returned with what looked like two sets of tweezers, attached to one another by a thin silver chain.

“Do you know what these are, Viktor?”

Viktor shook his head.

“They’re nipple clamps.”

Viktor’s bright pink flush bloomed across his face. He’d seen clamps before, but not this style.

“Do you want to wear them?”

Viktor nodded. “Please, Yuuri.”

Yuuri pushed Viktor flat with a hand to the center of his chest. He let the slippers and his towel fall to the floor before climbing over Viktor, cold droplets falling from Yuuri’s skin and leaving Viktor shivering.

“Cold?” Yuuri asked. He left the clamps and chain in a pile on Viktor’s chest and rubbed his thumbs into his nipples, trying to tease them to hardness.

“Mhm. Warm me up, my Yuuri. Ah!”

“God, I love your nipples.” Yuuri pressed a kiss to one, still hiding under the skin, and sucked gently at the areola, coaxing the bud out while its more eager twin slipped between Yuuri’s thumb and index finger.

“More than you love me?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri pulled off, a string of saliva still connecting his lip to Viktor’s nipple as he stared through Viktor’s eyes and into his soul. “I could never love anything more than I love you.”

“I love you too,” VIktor said, his heart singing.

“I’d say my top three loves are you, then skating, then your body is a close third.”

“My body is willing to be third to skating. Though I think for me, silver and bronze are switched.”

“I’m flattered,” Yuuri said, but it was drowned out by Viktor’s moan as he affixed the clamps and began to tighten them.

“Yuuri!” Viktor fisted the sheets and tensed, his hips coming off the bed.

“I wonder what it would be like to pierce these,” Yuuri mused. “You would probably feel them constantly. No more tight shirts for you, you’d be poking out of them all the time. But I’d miss how they tuck themselves away when you’re not turned on.” He reached down between them and began to stroke Viktor’s cock firmly in his palm, which left one hand free to graze fingernails tickling over Viktor’s pale pink areola and reddening nipple.

Viktor moaned, and Yuuri kept talking like it wasn’t affecting him, like he wasn’t hard as a rock from touching Viktor alone. “Or we could get your pretty cock pierced; you wouldn’t be allowed to come for months, while you heal. Can you imagine? Three months, maybe longer, without coming at all. No touching yourself except to clean it.”

Viktor writhed. It was no secret how desperate he was for release, how he couldn’t edge himself if his life depended on it, how he went along for the ride of Yuuri’s stamina with lethargic, messy laziness, his overstimulated body taking what Yuuri gave because Yuuri _could_ hold back, as long as he wanted. Viktor had masturbated at least once a day, usually more, since before he was even competing at the national level, because he couldn’t hold back. He’d rubbed more than a few out in public bathrooms, even on airplanes a couple of memorable times, riding his high in a turbulent first-class Aeroflot stall. The very idea of trying to cut Viktor off for even a day, much less months, was laughable.

And thrilling. That was the worst part. He’d be desperate and needy and completely unable to find release. Yuuri would probably control himself too, out of solidarity, but he would have it easier, to a point. Viktor would be a mess.

And at the end of it all, he’d have another pretty piece of metal to show off to the love of his life.

“Let’s do it,” Viktor gasped, and Yuuri chuckled. He’d come back to that when Viktor wasn’t halfway to bliss, agreeable to anything Yuuri might suggest.

“Didn’t you have something you wanted to do?” Yuuri reminded. Not that he was bitter or anything, he wasn’t, but if he was going to put all the effort into preparing for it, he didn’t want Viktor to forget.

“Yes. Yes, Yuuri, sit on my face.”

 _Oh_. Yuuri let go of Viktor’s cock, to let him think about this somewhat rationally. “You want that?” He knew Viktor liked to eat him out, knew he was planning to, but not like _that_. “Won’t it hurt?”

“I can handle it.”

“Vitya, I broke my wand two days ago from riding it.”

“If your thighs break my neck, it will be worth the brace and another year off from skating.”

“Vitya, think about this--”

“I have been thinking about it. Constantly. For weeks, _weeks_ , Yuuri. Please let me pleasure you.”

Viktor’s fingers tangled in Yuuri’s hair, the slightly long locks twisting tight between the digits, and Viktor pulled, just hard enough to show his determination, perhaps his desperation. Yes, definitely desperation, with that look in his eyes.

“Please, Yuuri.” Viktor left the tiniest peck of his lips on Yuuri’s, soft and sweet and Yuuri’s reservations crumbled like dust.

“Okay. Okay, get comfortable, Vitya.”

Viktor kissed Yuuri deeply then, before letting his love go and arranging himself as comfortably as he could, head on the pillow, limbs loose and inviting. Yuuri crawled up his body, his hips above Viktor’s face, and he looked down at where he could see Viktor’s eyes staring up at him on either side of Yuuri’s hard, leaking cock.

Yuuri shivered; his hair and back were still wet from his shower, and on top of that, Viktor was flushed and ready to devour him. Viktor’s arms came up around Yuuri’s thighs at that moment, pulling him into place.

“Down, Yuuri.” Viktor lifted his chin to kiss Yuuri’s crack. His hands moved to spread Yuuri’s cheeks apart. “On my face. Let me taste you.”

Yuuri lowered his hips, still shifting slightly at Viktor’s gentle prods, until he felt the tip of Viktor’s tongue against his hole. Yuuri gasped, his hips shifted, and Viktor’s fingers tightened on his ass.

“Down,” Viktor directed again, and his warm breath tickled Yuuri’s private, sensitive skin.

Yuuri let himself down a little more, his hands bracing against the headboard. Viktor’s tongue swiped over his hole again, and Yuuri lost balance. He would have fallen completely on Viktor without Viktor’s arms holding him in place, but Viktor moaned with the added weight, his lips immediately kissing sloppily at Yuuri’s hole.

“Vi-i-tya,” Yuuri moaned. Tingles ran up and down his spine as Viktor went at him with full enthusiasm, his arms shifting to allow Yuuri to fully seat himself on Viktor’s face. Yuuri moaned again, when Viktor’s kisses involved his tongue, prodding at his rim, requesting Yuuri relax so Viktor could slip inside.

It wasn’t easy, of course. When Yuuri was on his knees or his back, he was able to let go for Viktor, open up to him completely, but in this position some part of him tried to hold himself up, even with his knees weak. His thighs tensed and so did his backside, closing him off to Viktor. Still, Viktor did not back down, did not curb his enthusiasm in the least. He merely sucked harder, kissed deeper, licked and pushed until Yuuri gave just the slightest bit, groaning loud and low when he finally felt the tip of Viktor’s tongue enter him.

Yuuri’s head banged against the wall; he realised then that his hips had started to rock, seeking out more stimulation, perhaps on his cock, left ignored all this time, or perhaps hoping Viktor would push deeper within him, as if his tongue was long enough to reach further than an inch past his rim.

Yuuri chanced a look down; Viktor’s eyes were closed in pleasure and concentration, his hair was plastered with sweat to his forehead and cheek. Tears glistened on his eyelashes, and Yuuri wondered if he was in pain, until those beautiful eyes opened, tinged pink with his crying but so, so happy and full of love as they stared up at Yuuri.

“Love you,” Yuuri whispered. Viktor sighed underneath him; an adequate response with his mouth otherwise occupied. Viktor’s eyes shut again, and he doubled his efforts. Saliva dripped slick down the sides of Viktor’s face, and his quiet moans were muffled by Yuuri’s powerful thighs but not silenced, not by a long shot, blending beautifully with the wet sounds of his suckling.

“Vitya, I want to fuck you,” Yuuri managed, though he slurred through it, pleasure fogging his brain and affecting his speech.

Viktor hummed, caught between wanting to continue here, and wanting to let Yuuri take him apart.

Yuuri leaned back, his right hand sliding blindly down Viktor’s chest, past his cock, between his thighs, to rub one warm finger against his hole, and Viktor made up his mind. He pushed up on Yuuri’s ass, leaving a few parting licks up and down his crack. “Let me go rinse,” Viktor whispered, and he ducked out from under Yuuri to take a little mouthwash in the bathroom while Yuuri caught his breath.

Viktor returned to see Yuuri warming up the bottle of lube between his thighs, lying on his side, still breathing heavy and flushed an adorable pink.

“Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, smiling, beckoning with a flick of his hand, and Viktor obeyed the gentle request.

All the movement made Viktor’s nipples start to throb within the clamps, and Yuuri pinched one as soon as it was within reach. Viktor gasped, high-pitched, almost squeaky, and backed off, hands coming up to cover the sensitive buds.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said, a warning in his voice, and Viktor dropped his hands. He stretched himself out along the length of the bed and waited for Yuuri to crawl over him, his breath catching in his throat when Yuuri ducked his head down on Viktor’s chest, his lips closing over his right nipple.

Viktor’s already-sensitive nipples were made even more so with the clamps; swollen and red, they sent sparks of pleasure to every part of Viktor’s body as Yuuri played with them. Sucking, biting, pinching, rubbing, and everything in between; his fingers kneading into the slight softness, an inch or so of pillowy tissue giving way to Viktor’s defined pectorals.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” Yuuri asked, not expecting a response.

“Tell me,” Viktor begged anyway.

Yuuri stilled for a moment, taking in the shock of the request, as if he didn’t know Viktor loved the praise just as much as Yuuri did. But then he smiled, and left a kiss in the middle of Viktor’s chest; the salty taste of Viktor’s sweat clung to his lips, and Yuuri licked it off before he spoke. His chin caught on the chain between the clamps as he lifted his head, and Viktor hissed.

“Your body is the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ve always thought so. Like you must have been sculpted by gods.” Yuuri kissed Viktor’s nipples in turn. “Not just here, but your nipple are so cute. So sensitive. But never so much as now. I could make you come like this.”

 _You could_ , Viktor wanted to say, but he just groaned instead.

“The sounds you make turn me on so much. One time, I don’t know if you know this, we were on a call and I didn’t touch myself at all. Not until I was ready to burst. You brought me right up to the edge with your voice and I only needed one stroke to push me over.

“You arms, and your legs, they’re so strong. I always feel so secure, and so protected, when I’m all wrapped up in you. But you’re still soft, too. Your skin is so warm, and I never want to leave.”

Yuuri’s fingers danced over Viktor’s skin, teasing the sensitive areas under his arms, on the inside of his elbow, on his forearm, his wrists, his palms, before his hands circled around Viktor’s wrists and gently pulled them toward the headboard. A silk tie came out of nowhere, stashed inside the pillowcase by Yuuri just before he left the apartment; Yuuri tied Viktor to the posts, securely, but not roughly.

“Good?”

“Mhm. Very.”

“Good. God, look at you. You’re all tied up but you don’t look restrained at all. You’re so open, all for me.”

“Yours. Yuuri.” Viktor whined.

“Shh, I’m not done. I love the way you smell, Vitya.” Yuuri leaned down to nudge his face into the side of Viktor’s throat, taking a deep breath of the strong smell there; his nose travelled, following the strongest scent, to under Viktor’s arm. “You smell like snow, and fire, and sugar.”

“Sugar?”

“Mmh. Honey? No. Flowers, sweet flowers. Like a fruit blossom. And when you’re hot for me you smell salty, like _shoyu_. Do you know how hard it is to eat in Japan when _shoyu_ reminds you of your fiance coming all over himself?”

“You--” Viktor began, and he cleared his scratchy throat. “You smell like ice, too. And like the _onsen_ , like it’s a part of you.”

Yuuri chuckled into Viktor’s bicep. “And when I’m turned on?”

Viktor breathed Yuuri in deep. “Black pepper, and those red apples with the subtle flavor.”

Yuuri smiled, his head coming up so he could look at Viktor’s face properly. “The sweet ones or the bitter ones?”

“Bitter. It so happens that I like them more.”

“Hmm. I hope that’s true.” Yuuri pinched Viktor’s nipple, which may perhaps have been an attempt at a small punishment but only succeeded as a reward, drawing a sudden, pleading moan from Viktor’s throat.

“Yuuri, please.”

“Shh.” Yuuri reached down their bodies, his right hand sliding under Viktor’s back to cup his ass. “This. I love your ass. So firm, and round, and…” He squeezed, his short nails scratching lightly in Viktor’s crack, and Viktor jerked his hips up. “Yeah. Show me what you want, Vitya.”

“Yuuri…” Viktor’s cock rubbed against Yuuri’s as his hips shifted again, and they both gasped; Viktor’s cock leaked a drop of pre-cum onto his belly.

Yuuri reached between them. “I love your cock,” he said, in a whisper, stroking it with just the pads of his fingers. “It’s so long, gets so deep inside me. When I ride you, it’s perfect, it’s the perfect angle. You don’t know how hard it is to hold on, to wait for you to come before I do.”

“You’re better at it than I am.”

“That’s true,” Yuuri said, his eyes softening from pure lust into fondness. He brushed back some of Viktor’s hair out of his eyes, to see his face more clearly. “You can’t even try to hold back when I’m inside you, can you? You love it too much.”

“I do, Yuuri. Please, please fuck me.”

“I will when I’m ready. But please, keep asking me. Beg for me, Vitya. Maybe you’ll convince me I want it sooner.”

“ _Please_ , Yuuri.”

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Yuuri, _please_. Please, please, _fuck_ me, Yuuri --” Viktor’s next plea was lost in a vocal sigh as Yuuri’s slick fingers dove between his legs, seeking out his hole.

“Open up for me, Vitya.”

“Yes, yes, Yuuri.” Viktor spread his legs, bending at the knee, making room for Yuuri’s fingers to push inside him. Viktor sighed again, content, as Yuuri fingered him open. His cock leaked again as Yuuri pushed against his walls, his middle finger digging into Viktor’s prostate, stroking and then fucking into it, making Viktor see stars. “Yuuri, I’ll come!”

“Don’t you want to?”

“I want to come on your cock,” Viktor whined.

“Are my fingers not enough for you?” Yuuri said, in a warning tone.

“Yuuri…”

“How about this.” Yuuri pulled his fingers out, slicking them up with more lube. “How about I finger you, finger-fuck you until you come. And then I’ll put my cock in you, while you’re still too sensitive to even stand being touched, and fuck you until you can’t see.”

The little glittering diamond tears were back at the corners of Viktor’s eyes, and once again Yuuri worried he’d gone too far, until Viktor pleaded with him: “ _Yes_ , Yuuri. Yes. _Please_. Please fuck me, use me. Use me how you want and break me.”

Yuuri knew, in that moment, that Viktor was trusting him with the very surface of something deep, a need that ached and ate away at Viktor and had for a long time. A bone-deep itch that needed scratching. Perhaps one he didn’t even know about.

And Yuuri knew, in that moment, that he would do absolutely everything he could to scratch that itch, to soothe the ache, to fill that chasm. And he would thoroughly enjoy every moment of it.

“Remember…” Yuuri breathed in deep. “Remember the safe words?”

“I remember. I won’t need them, not for this.” Viktor’s hands twisted in the tie that still held him back. “I want this.”

“What have you been doing while I was away?” Yuuri mumbled.

Viktor didn’t answer, but he fully intended to tell Yuuri later, all about how he had started rating Yuuri’s toys by how well they satisfied him, with Yuuri’s dick being a perfect ten, and about the, ahem, _research_ Viktor had done.

For now, he rolled his head back on to the pillow and sighed aloud when Yuuri’s fingers pressed deeper, four fingers testing the very limits of what Viktor could take, then three or two prodding at his prostate, while Yuuri’s left hand curled around his cock, holding gently, thumb circling the tip as he focused on Viktor’s ass.

“Lift your legs,” Yuuri directed, and Viktor did so. He pulled his spread knees up to his chest, which allowed Yuuri to drive his fingers in harder, faster, and Viktor wondered who was shouting before he realised it was himself.

Before he knew it, Viktor’s body tightened up, tensed like a spring pulled taut, and in his moment of perfect bliss, he swore he could hear wedding bells.

“Yuuri. Yuuri, that was…” Indescribable. Especially as Yuuri leaned over Viktor and fed the tip of his cock into Viktor’s gaping hole. No words came forth, only a sob ripped from Viktor’s throat as his legs clung to Yuuri’s hips, his arms pulled at their bonds hard enough to make the bed creak.

Yuuri claimed Viktor’s lips in a messy, soaking-wet kiss. “Missed you so much,” Yuuri mumbled before stealing another one, dirty and hot. He gripped Viktor’s hips, thrust in hard, then let go in favor of rubbing his tingling nipples, swallowing Viktor’s broken, pleasured sobs breathed right into his mouth every time Yuuri bottomed out.

He pulled back, hands on Viktor’s chest holding him down when he tried to chase Yuuri’s kisses, but he was quickly lost to the snap of Yuuri’s hips against the meat of his ass. Yuuri slowed, admired Viktor’s lazy moans, his pink face and chest, his mostly soft but slowly leaking cock. He loosened one of Viktor’s nipple clamps and removed it, then pinched that nipple, rolling it gently between his fingers, before bending down to bring it between his lips and suck. His tongue laved over the sensitive nub, tasting Viktor’s sweet skin.

Viktor whined, perhaps whimpered, if Yuuri was being specific, and Yuuri wondered aloud, “How are you so sensitive here?” but Viktor was in no state to answer. Yuuri was a little jealous, in fact, of how far gone Viktor was, so he sat up and gripped Viktor’s thighs, thrusting into him with all of his strength. Viktor gave a shout; the pillows bunched up behind his head as Yuuri pushed him up the bed, the whole frame rocking just a little bit.

A thin stream of semen flowed from Viktor’s cock, dripping down the hollow of his hip. Yuuri watched it collect and thrust in again. Another weak spurt of fluid came out along with a noise from Viktor’s throat that had the same pitch as a plea.

“Are you going to beg?” Yuuri asked, his voice soft, expecting no answer and getting, as expected, none. He leaned his weight down on Viktor, fingers digging bruises into the undersides of his thighs, and drove into him hard and fast, his own moans drawing out as he lost himself to the friction on his cock. Viktor had gone nearly silent, only hitching breaths at every thrust letting Yuuri know he was still conscious, still feeling every moment of this, his eyes barely open and the little slivers of blue that Yuuri could see were glazed over with overwhelming lust.

“Yu…” Viktor tried, but it proved too much for him, and he melted, his every muscle relaxing perfectly at just the moment Yuuri’s drew tight, and he came inside Viktor’s trembling body, Viktor’s name dripping honeyed from his lips.

Yuuri didn’t move for a moment or two after his release, just breathing softly. Before he withdrew, he carefully removed the other nipple clamp from Viktor, then brushed his sweaty bangs from his face. Viktor looked at him, and his eyes followed Yuuri as he got up, fetched a damp cloth from the bathroom, and cleaned them both off, being extra gentle between Viktor’s legs, which still shook. Then, Yuuri tucked both of them under the blankets, and he spooned Viktor’s side until Viktor regained control of himself.

The first thing Viktor did was turn on his side, to face Yuuri. The second thing he did was kiss his fiance, just a chaste peck on the mouth that seemed far too innocent after the bruising sex they’d just had but was also perfect for the winding-down they both desperately needed. The third thing he did was whisper, “I love you,” before he fell asleep in Yuuri’s arms.

Yuuri watched him for a few minutes, watched the moonlight from the window dance over Viktor’s cheek and hair. But not long after, he was out too.

\---

The next morning was… interesting.

It wasn’t that Viktor was in any sort of severe pain; sure, he was a little sore during his and Yuuri’s morning run, but this was far from the first time either of them had taken a run the morning after sex and while it was certainly more intense than the way they usually went about it, it was nothing Viktor couldn’t handle.

Skating was another matter; Viktor was stiff in his hips and legs, and so was Yuuri. Lucky for Yuuri, his coach was very understanding of the situation and let him off easy, but Yuuri, stubborn as he was, ignored that and did his jumps anyway. He ate ice more often than not, but he insisted it was good training for skating under not-ideal circumstances. Viktor’s luck was on another level entirely. Yakov had no patience for his skaters fooling around, certainly not one who was practicing six months behind, who had taken recycled programs to his own nationals and was trying to build whole new ones before Europeans out of the bits and pieces he’d come up with in his spare moments. So, when he saw Viktor unable to catch his foot in a Biellmann, stumble on a triple flip, and grimace like he smelled something absolutely foul during a layback Ina Bauer, Yakov ran him twice as hard, no mercy. And when it came time to send them off to dance and weights, Yakov passed on the no-mercy instructions to the off-ice coaches as well.

Yakov’s reasoning for this was not that he was a careless or merciless man; it was that, if Viktor was truly unfit to skate, he would have stayed home, or at the very least Yuuri would have forced him to. But he was on the ice, so he better make the most of it. After all, Yakov was certain that the most decorated skater of all time would, as always, take only one lesson from his mistakes: he could do it, so why not do it again?

(Yakov was, of course, absolutely right. Viktor was already planning for the next opportunity.)

Evening found Viktor in Yuuri’s lap on their sofa, the pair kissing softly, lazily; their bellies were full of protein and they needed a way to use up the last of the day’s energy before they tried to sleep.

Yuuri tugged off Viktor’s t-shirt, a difficult feat when Viktor clung to him so close, but eventually he managed to toss it to the floor, and his hands instantly went right for Viktor’s nipples. Viktor hummed into Yuuri’s mouth, his back arching slightly to give Yuuri a better view as he pulled away. Viktor threw his head back and gasped at the sharp feeling of Yuuri’s nails digging into his skin, turning pink pinker.

“You like this,” Yuuri whispered. Viktor nodded, as if it was a question and not a long-known observation. “Why?”

“Feels good,” Viktor answered. “Why don’t you?”

“I do like it,” Yuuri corrected. “But not as much as you do.”

“‘M sensitive. _Oh!_ ” Viktor exclaimed, when Yuuri latched on to his right nipple with lips and teeth. “ _Yuuri…_ ”

“Mmm… Vitya,” Yuuri said, still with Viktor’s exposed nipple between his teeth. He sucked on it, hard, then kissed the skin underneath. “I wonder if I can give you hickeys here,” Yuuri wondered aloud.

“ _Please_ ,” Viktor begged, and so Yuuri tried his best. He sucked as hard as he could, bit down and rolled the skin between his teeth until red-purple pinpricks dotted the skin, and when he pulled away, red rushed in to swell.

“Oh, that’s going to look beautiful…” Yuuri whispered, gently fingering the darkening bruise.

“You like that?” Viktor asked.

“I guess I do.” Yuuri looked up to meet his gaze to Viktor’s; Viktor’s hands slid up into his hair.

If Yuuri could ever go back in time, if he could ever tell his past self about the future to come, he always wavered on whether he would spoil all this; if he would spill the secrets of his future with Viktor. But it was moments like these, impossible moments, that he knew he could never tell. For how could be ever believe, without living this truth, that he would end up with Viktor Nikiforov not only as his coach and fiance, but also staring down at him with love and lust clouding his eyes, practically tearing his hair out while he whined, _desperately_ : “Please, Yuuri. Do it again. Mark me all over; make me look like I’m yours.”

The reality of Viktor was _so_ much better than Yuuri’s dreams.

Yuuri pushed him down on the couch, and as soon as Viktor was comfortable with a throw pillow under his neck, Yuuri got to work. First he bestowed the same care and attention on Viktor’s left nipple, brought it standing to attention before mouthing a deep bruise. Next, he littered a few smaller bites across Viktor’s chest, testing out different areas of skin and muscle, finding out which spots were harder or softer, and which made Viktor moan the loudest. Nothing, in fact, came even close to the pleas Viktor shouted when Yuuri latched his mouth onto the purpling right nipple again, sucking and finally biting into the skin while Viktor practically sobbed.

“Yuuri, yes, Yuuri, just like that, please!” Viktor lifted his hips, his cock hard and straining in his ridiculously expensive designer yoga pants. Yuuri still remembered the two-page spread of Viktor advertising the brand, and his ass was just as godly-sculpted in real life, but in real life Viktor’s thin, silky underwear did nothing to hide the shape of his cock as it rubbed into Yuuri’s hip.

“Are you going to come from this, Viktor?”

“Maybe. Don’t stop.” Viktor panted, clutching at Yuuri’s shoulder. “Don’t stop, Yuuri!”

“You sound desperate,” Yuuri observed, tracing one fingernail around the nipple he’d just bitten, and Viktor gasped, his hips thrusting up again. This time Yuuri was sure to lean his own hips back just a bit. As much as he’d love to grind against Viktor, it was so much fun to deny him for a little while, as long as he always gave in, in the end.

“I _am_ desperate, Yuuri!” Viktor pouted, but that pout melted away when Yuuri’s lips made soft explorations of his neck, just the most gentle of kisses left behind, coaxing Viktor to turn his head until Yuuri could reach the hollow under his ear. Here, he sucked the skin into his mouth; when he let go he could see the skin darkening, but hopefully from afar it would just look like a shadow.

“You can leave them where people will see,” Viktor said. “I don’t mind. I like looking like I belong to you.”

Yuuri closed his eyes at that, breathing slow to compose himself. “I… god, I want to. But I don’t want to make anyone else uncomfortable.”

“I have turtlenecks, if you’re really worried. But I don’t think anyone will care all that much. I would hope they’d be happy for us.”

Yuuri still looked skeptical, so Viktor broke out the big one: puppy dog eyes and his ultimate pleading tone.

“ _Please_ , Yuuri? I want to wear your marks for everyone to see.” To really seal the deal, Viktor leaned his head to the side, allowing the fall of his hair to fan out over the throw pillow as his eyes fluttered shut.

Moments later, he felt a warm breath on his neck, and he smiled, content, as Yuuri sucked right at his pulse point.

“Oh, yes, Yuuri…” He gave the tiniest gasp when Yuuri let go, Viktor’s skin slipping out from between his teeth, and then Yuuri bit hard into the juncture between Viktor’s neck and shoulder. “ _Aah!_ ”

Yuuri leaned back to admire what he’d done, the scattering of marks across Viktor’s chest and now his shoulder and neck. “ _Kirei na_ ,” he breathed, tracing his fingers over a few particularly dark ones.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered back, but whatever he was about to say caught in his throat when Yuuri cupped his chin, a soft smile on his face as they made eye contact.

Yuuri rubbed his thumb over Viktor’s cheek. “ _Mite_ , Vitya.”

Viktor turned his head fully so Yuuri could look at him face-on.

“ _Utsukushii_.”

“ _Sou_ ,” Viktor said, and he watched the emotions play over Yuuri’s face as he understood the meaning of Viktor’s simple response; first amusement, and an intent to chastise him for vanity, but then the realization that Viktor meant _that’s true; you are_.

Yuuri leaned down and pressed their foreheads together; his eyes closed, content for the moment to just feel Viktor’s warmth and closeness. Viktor kept looking at him, and he stroked Yuuri’s hair.

Eventually Viktor’s impatience got the better of him. “Yuuri,” he murmured, and shifted his hips, making his erection well-known.

“Impatient.”

“Mm. Make me come, please?”

“If you like.” Yuuri kissed down the side of Viktor’s face and neck, then nibbled at random over his chest, not marking anymore but definitely making more than a few detours to irritate some of the most visible ones. Eventually he settled with his lips over Viktor’s right nipple, and his fingers on the left, sucking and twisting while Viktor cried out below him. He did this until he heard Viktor half-choke his way through a moan, and when his free hand found its way down between Viktor’s legs, he found the front of his pants sticky and wet.

“Wow. Just from your nipples.”

Viktor blushed, on top of the lusting flush he already had. “I told you.”

“You did. But what about me?”

Viktor took only a few shuddering breaths to compose himself before he turned over and pulled down the back of his pants and underwear. The waistband pulled snug under his ass, making it look even thicker and tighter than usual. “Use me, Yuuri.”

In all fairness, Yuuri had fantasized about _precisely this moment_ more times than he could count. Such being the case, it was only natural that he moved without thinking. He pulled down his own pants just to the knee and spread Viktor’s ass cheeks apart; his thumb rubbed briefly against Viktor’s hole, and Viktor shivered under the touch, but not for long. Yuuri laid his cock in the crevice, and he squeezed Viktor’s cheeks together around him, thumbs crossing in between.

Without any lube, the first few thrusts were rough and dry, until Viktor pushed a hand into his own underwear and brought it out to slather still-wet cum over Yuuri’s cock. It didn’t ease the way that much, being thick and sticky after all, but it was something, and that something was enough to get Yuuri to come over Viktor’s back, gasping and with his fingers digging into Viktor’s flesh.

Yuuri caught his breath and then carefully cleaned up his mess from Viktor’s back with Viktor’s discarded shirt; Viktor tossed the messy underwear and yoga pants into the wash to be dealt with the next day. He walked through the apartment fully nude, not a care in the world, and entered his bedroom to see Yuuri wrestling with the blankets that were trapped under Makkachin where the had taken up her throne in the middle of the bed. She perked up when she noticed Viktor; he wondered what Yuuri had done to make her turn on him.

Yuuri huffed as Makkachin suddenly jumped off the bed. “I get us lost on your walk _one time_ …”

Ah. So that was it. Well, by morning she would be back to loving Yuuri as her favorite. As she should, Viktor decided, bending down to give her face a smush between his hands.

“You should shower,” Yuuri suggested, but Viktor waved him off.

“I showered three times today and I’ll shower in the morning. The sheets are dirty anyway.” Viktor sandwiched himself into said sheets as soon as Yuuri turned back the covers, instantly making himself snug and warm. “Join me, Yuuri.”

With Yuuri in his arms, Viktor nearly drifted off to sleep. But not before hearing Yuuri ask him, “Did you like that? Coming from just, you know.”

“Mm, yes. Very much. I like being overwhelmed.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

Viktor was sure that if he looked up, he’d see that _look_ in Yuuri’s eyes, the same bright, searching one he’d watched unfold the day Yuuri had proposed to him. But instead of checking what he already knew, he snuggled up closer to Yuuri, wiggled his toes under Makkachin’s warm belly, and drifted off to sleep.

\---

Two slutty, slutty weeks later, a package arrived.

Yuuri was the only one in the apartment when it arrived. Viktor started practice early, allowing Yuuri to sleep in as his body wanted, and then Yuuri’s own practice would run late, with Viktor’s undivided coaching attention at night. The mail, too, tended to come early, with the street that Viktor’s apartment complex was on being one of the first to receive packages most days.

With this luck, Yuuri was able to open the box in private, with its discreet packaging and its return address listing it as from an unnamed “Shipping Department”, away from Viktor’s prying eyes. It was a surprise for him, after all. Yuuri inspected the contents in their bedroom, spread out on Viktor’s bed; he considered testing them, but realised he would be late for off-ice practice if he dawdled any longer. So he returned his new toys to their included fabric pouches and found them homes in his Fun Box before getting himself and Makkachin ready for the cold and heading out.

He jogged two kilometers to the athletic complex with Makkachin enjoying her brisk run beside him, as he did almost every morning, save for those when the weather only allowed him to take public transport or when Viktor took Makkachin in bright and early.

Thoughts of the new toy back at the apartment plagued Yuuri all day, even as he tried to shove them down, face prickling with a fierce blush on top of its pinking in the cold. Thankfully the compression of his underclothes kept him comfortably safe from a more obvious physical tell of his thoughts, but he did trip over his toe pick like an amateur in his embarrassed distraction when Viktor gave the loud observation that his movements were jerky as all hell but he was still oozing Eros from every pore.

Yuuri didn’t spring the toy on Viktor when they got home, though he wanted to. They weren’t so lucky as to have a rest day tomorrow, and while they certainly pushed the boundaries of how much sex was necessarily safe for their already overworked bodies more often than they should, Yuuri knew that to introduce something like this to Viktor for the first time… well, he should be _able_ to leave bed tomorrow, but that didn’t mean he would _want_ to.

What was the saying, “the flesh is willing but the spirit is weak”? Something like that.

Yuuri had to wait a whole three torturous days to reach their weekly rest day, the day Yurio slept and Mila made Tinder dates and Georgi devoted long hours to pining over his exes and Yakov had perhaps a single solitary moment of peace and Lilia Baranovskaya was just as severe and probing as any other day, probably, but most importantly to this progression of events, Yuuri and Viktor tended to either sit around the house and do absolutely nothing else, or have mind-blowing sex as much as they possibly could.

When Yuuri and Viktor returned home from the last practice before their rest day, Yuuri had already decided it would be the latter.

“Can you make dinner tonight, Vitya?” Yuuri asked sweetly, spoiling none of his surprise.

“I was planning to. Do you want fish? I defrosted the salmon.”

“That sounds good. And use the snow peas, they’re about to turn over.”

“Salmon and snow peas, yes, darling.” Viktor started humming as he moved around in the kitchen, and Yuuri watched him for a few moments, smiling at his back and at Makkachin staying just out of tripping distance. Viktor turned, feeling Yuuri’s eyes on him, and smiled wide and toothy, his eyes squinting and sparkling, nose scrunching up; he went back to his cooking, setting up a cast iron pan with the slightest amount of vegetable oil to bake the fish, and his hips swayed as he hummed his free program music, a little off-key but perfectly in rhythm.

Yuuri almost stayed where he was, content to watch his fiance shuffle around the kitchen of their warm, cozy home, making dinner, humming love into the air, their dog sprawled out in front of her favorite radiator. But as beautiful and heartwarming as the domestic scene before him was, Yuuri had a mission.

He tore his eyes away, and headed into the bedroom. Yuuri didn’t undress completely, though he loved the way Viktor would blush up to his ears when he did so, coming out of the bedroom in nothing but his socks, offering himself up--

No. Yuuri shook his head. Not tonight.

He did change his underwear, though, into something a little sexier; a tighter cut than his usual boxer-briefs that hugged his ass and gave a little lift that paired nicely with his fleece-lined yoga pants. Or, rather, Viktor’s fleece-lined yoga pants, which Yuuri was borrowing.

Next, he laid out the new toys on the bed, assessed them once more before taking them into the bathroom to wash. He had already boiled the silicone attachments but wanted to give them a little rinse before using them.

Yuuri returned everything to the bed, then checked the sheets. He had changed them this morning, into the cheaper cotton-polyester blend set that was easy to wash, with a crinkly plastic mattress cover underneath. He turned down the duvet and top sheet, smoothing them out, then emerged into the main area of Viktor’s -- their -- apartment.

The fish was already in the oven, snow peas arranged neatly around the salmon steaks in a little birds’ nest. Viktor was scooping two servings of brown rice into the small rice cooker Yuuri had brought with him, the very same one he and Phichit had used in college to make everything from pancakes to hot pot to a tolerable pork roast.

Viktor was also pink across his cheeks and ears, and Yuuri wondered if he’d peeked at the bedroom before noticing what else changed in his absence.

“What’s this?” Yuuri asked, as he came up next to Viktor. He reached up to Viktor’s neck, where a pastel pink collar rested; it looked well-made, and custom fitted; the dyed leather stretched cleanly, folded over at the edges, and padded inside with what appeared to be velvet or a short-hair faux fur. A rose gold D-ring and buckle sat in the hollow of Viktor’s throat, and at the back of his neck was a matching O-ring.

“Do you like it?” Viktor asked. His voice didn’t waver, but the way his eyes flicked to and from Yuuri’s betrayed his slight nervousness.

Yuuri hooked a finger through the D-ring and pulled; Viktor made a noise of surprise as his body bent to the pull without thought. A drop of sweat slid down Viktor’s neck from under the collar, warmed by the soft padding. “I do,” Yuuri said. “What a pretty surprise.”

Viktor shivered. Yuuri let go and allowed him to return to making the rice with a tap to his butt.

Viktor turned the cooker on for forty-five minutes, and he joined Yuuri in the main room, straddling his legs on the couch where he lay on his back.

Yuuri looked up from the screen of his phone, and, with a devious little smile, took a perfectly-angled photo of Viktor, capturing him from the top of his head all the way down to the slight tent in the crotch of his pants.

“Yuuri!” Viktor leaned back, surprised. “You could have asked, no need to sneak pictures of me.” He posed, cutely touching the tips of his fingers to the soft pink collar, turning slightly to look at Yuuri through the short curtain of his hair.

“You have a whole album of candids of me.”

“Well, that’s true…”

Yuuri snapped a few more photos; Viktor really was gorgeous, and the collar softened him somehow; where it might have made someone else look rough and restrained, the collar only made Viktor look open and wanting. But Viktor quickly got bored of posing, and he took the phone from Yuuri’s fingers, setting it aside so he could lean down unimpeded and press sweet kisses to Yuuri’s lips.

Sweet kisses turned spicy, hot, wet, deep; Viktor sucked on Yuuri’s tongue as Yuuri’s hands slipped into the back of his pants, grabbing handfuls of his bare ass around a tight cotton thong. Viktor’s breath hitched, and he jerked his hips forward, his clothed cock coming in contact with Yuuri’s.

“Mmm…” Viktor hummed, separating his lips from Yuuri’s. “What are you planning?” Viktor asked.

“Don’t you worry about it, Vitya. You’ll like it.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that. I like anything and everything you do to me,” Viktor said, lighthearted but fully honest. “You’re so good to me, my Yuuri. Is it a surprise?”

“Yes.”

“Ooh, then I’ll like it even more.” Viktor wiggled in Yuuri’s lap, making them both moan; their mouths came together again, not separating for more than air or muffled endearments until the cooking timer went off.

Reluctantly, Viktor got up from his very comfortable spot splayed out over Yuuri’s body, and pulled up the back of his pants from where they were pushed down under his butt. He left Yuuri with a lingering kiss and went to check on the rice and fish. Both were perfectly cooked, so Yuuri set out plates and served Makkachin her dinner while Viktor plated theirs.

As much as both Yuuri and Viktor wanted to skip dinner and jump into bed, they’d both been professional athletes long enough to know that was dangerously irresponsible, especially if they intended to work their bodies breathtakingly hard on a rest day, _again_. So they sat down to dinner, and they washed the dishes together, and they rinsed the fishy taste out with mouthwash, and then Yuuri hooked a finger in Viktor’s pretty new collar and dragged him by the neck into their bedroom.

They were kissing before they reached the bed, Viktor’s eyes shut in love and trust, Yuuri squinting as he reached for the new toy. He wedged it in between their hips and pushed the head between Viktor’s legs to settle under his balls, and no sooner did Viktor make the tiniest questioning noise than he was moaning, nearly shouting in surprise when Yuuri turned it on. The vibrations from the corded wand were too much, too soon; the toy was far more powerful than any vibrator Viktor had used before.

“Yuuri!” Viktor whined; he tried to move away, but Yuuri wrapped his free arm around Viktor’s waist and held him in place. Viktor twitched and thrashed in Yuuri’s hold, and then, all of a sudden, he leaned limp against Yuuri’s chest, whimpering slightly.

“Did you come already?” Yuuri whispered in Viktor’s ear.

Viktor nodded against his shoulder. He had draped himself over Yuuri, curled inwards as if trying to make himself small, as if that would let him escape the intense vibrations. “Too much, I can’t…” He twitched and tried again to move away, groaning when Yuuri continued to hold him in place.

“Do you want to stop?” Yuuri asked, a gentle whisper murmured in Viktor’s ear.

“No!” Viktor shouted, biting it out through gritted teeth. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!” It sounded like it pained him to say that, but he clutched at the back of Yuuri’s shirt, pulling their bodies closer.

Yuuri led Viktor to the bed, both of them tripping over Viktor’s shaky legs. Yuuri laid Viktor down, not removing the wand from between his legs until he was fully reclined, his hips and thighs spasming as he fought to accept the overwhelming pleasure.

Yuuri dragged the head of the wand up over the hard outline of Viktor’s cock, the sweatpants shifting with it; he passed the waistband, pushing down hard against Viktor’s lower abdomen. Viktor shuddered with the confusing sensation; it wasn’t the same unbearable pleasure as before, but he couldn’t pretend he felt nothing. The vibrator was strong, and sent shocks up and down his body. Yuuri yanking down his pants didn’t help; soon Viktor was naked, and Yuuri was fitting a blue silicone attachment over the head, which had a shapely, exciting extension, about the width of two of Yuuri’s fingers, and perhaps a bit longer. Which made it perfect for Yuuri’s purpose, as he spread lube over the attachment as slipped it between Viktor’s cheeks, his spread legs accommodating for the punishing pace of the toy’s motor.

Viktor groaned, loud and low, drawn out as the toy entered him, pushed deep; his groan turned higher in pitch as the finger-like attachment added pressure just above his prostate.

“ _God!_ Yes!” Viktor gasped, then moaned Yuuri’s name, over and over, faster and more breathless until his thighs tensed hard as stone and his hips came off the bed. Viktor’s mouth hung open in a silent scream; he came down with what could only be described as a squeak, his hips still rocking against the toy.

“Did you come again?” Yuuri asked, because it had been dry and more than that he wanted Viktor to say it.

Viktor nodded.

“What was that?” Yuuri prompted.

“Yes,” Viktor gasped. “Yes, I came. Haah, _again_.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure if that _again_ was an admission or a plea; he treated it as both. “Good boy.”

Viktor whined. Yuuri sympathized; he knew from experience exactly how much-too-much he was feeling right now. But Viktor was so _easy_. He didn’t have Yuuri’s stamina or his tolerance for sensation; he was far too sensitive to hold back even when it was more than he could handle. It would be so much _more_ for him, more than Yuuri could imagine.

He felt lucky to be able to watch it happen.

“Should I leave you like this?” Yuuri wondered aloud. Viktor’s head snapped up from the bed; he looked at Yuuri with a mix of fear and excitement. “Oh? You like the idea?”

Viktor’s eyelids fluttered; he tried to be present while Yuuri spoke to him, tried not to lose himself to another wave of pleasure.

“Can you imagine if I tied you down and left this going until you came so much you got used to it?”

Viktor groaned again at that, falling back down to the bed. His hips were moving again, straining against Yuuri’s hold on his waist, so Yuuri got up on the bed and straddled Viktor, sitting on his belly and facing the wand that still buzzed happily between Viktor’s legs.

There was a questioning noise behind him, then Viktor’s hands gripping Yuuri’s ass tight through the borrowed yoga pants. “Fuck, Yuuri. They really are thin.”

“Hm?”

“The pants. I can see your cute butt stretching the fabric.” Viktor’s hands squeezed hard, spreading Yuuri’s cheeks as best he could while they were encased in tight spandex.

“You’re talking that much?” Yuuri asked. He swiped his thumb over the switch on the wand’s handle, before flipping it from low to high.

Viktor _screamed_.

He bucked so hard he nearly threw Yuuri off the bed, and Yuuri barely managed to right himself; he adjusted his stance as Viktor rocked beneath him, all the while digging the wand hard and deep into Viktor’s ass.

“Yeah? You like that?” Yuuri asked, his voice strained. He was so incredibly turned on just from watching Viktor like this, and now he could rub himself off against Viktor’s firm belly.

Viktor groaned in response, unable to form words, too deep in his bliss to even form thoughts.

“I want to keep you like this all night…” Yuuri whispered this, part of him hoping Viktor wouldn’t hear. Until Viktor did hear, and Viktor came again, his cock pulsing out a weak spurt of fluid. “And all day tomorrow, too,” Yuuri added, and Viktor started to sob behind him.

Yuuri turned to look over his shoulder. “Viktor?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Viktor croaked out. “All night, all night and tomorrow.”

“Really?”

“Ngh!” Viktor clenched the sheets, pulling hard; the fitted sheet popped off the bed in one corner and Viktor bunched up the fabric in his hand. He fought through aftershocks and overstimulation, pleasure edging on pain, his throat working as he struggled to speak and breathe at the same time. “You said - earlier - until I’m used to it - please!”

Instantly, a whole slew of evil, evil plans erupted in Yuuri’s mind. What if he really did tie Viktor down to the bed? What if he held the vibrator in place - no - tied that in place too, just watched Viktor fall apart, forget his own name, lose sight of the passage of time. If he held Viktor down like this and made him feel this until he passed out from it. If he got Viktor used to it, after weeks, maybe months of letting him come only while pressed up against this terrifyingly powerful machine, and then just… took it all away.

Oh, god. What if he could deprive Viktor after all?

“Vitya.” Yuuri turned the wand down to its lower setting, and waited for Viktor to heave out a few sighs before he continued to speak. “Do you really want that? For me to get you used to this?”

Viktor looked up; his eyes were wet with tears, his face open and vulnerable, lips bitten pink and red and swollen. He took a deep, heaving breath. “Is that possible?”

“I don’t know. If it was --”

“Yes.”

“Okay. We’re going to move you.” Yuuri turned off the wand and shifted around again. He helped Viktor scoot up toward the headboard, then sat between his legs, facing him; Yuuri threw his legs over Viktor’s and clamped them in between his thighs and calves. He seated himself with enough pressure to keep him in place, but not enough to cut off Viktor’s circulation. With a little more maneuvering, Yuuri pushed the rounded head of the wand’s extension back inside Viktor.

As soon as Yuuri turned the toy back on, Viktor’s hands flew up to the headboard, grasping the bars tight in a white-knuckled grip. The attempt to ground himself was pointless. He was already flying. He gasped; his back arched up off the bed.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Yuuri whispered. “God, look at you. I missed you so much, and now I have you all to myself.”

Viktor whined, prompting Yuuri to keep talking, no matter what kind of embarrassing, cheesy lines came out of his mouth.

“I thought of you all the time while we were apart. While I practiced, I would always turn to the other end of the rink and expect to see you there. Some mornings I would make a second cup of coffee for you before I was fully awake, or bring an extra bowl to the table for dinner, or I’d get ready to take Makkachin for a walk and I’d look for you and I’d suddenly remember I was going out with her alone. I would wake up in the middle of the night and roll over to find you weren’t there. And I’d think about you, and how much I missed you, and how I’d show you how much I missed you as soon as I was with you again.

“Do you know what I wanted to do? What I thought about?” Yuuri paused, swallowing down his sudden nervousness. Here Yuuri was, shoving the most intense vibrator he knew of up his fiance’s ass, and yet he was embarrassed about telling Viktor how he imagined getting him off while they were thousands of miles apart. No, he couldn’t get hung up on it; Viktor needed him. And more than that, Yuuri needed to say it, _now_ , before it spilled out of him at some useless and inopportune moment, half-formed and making even more of a nervous wreck out of him than it already had. “I wanted to suck you off in the locker room. I wanted you to come in my mouth so I could carry you around with me all day. I wanted to bring you home and throw you down on my bed and sit on your face.”

Viktor moaned.

“You liked it last time. So did I. I liked it a lot. I didn’t think you’d ever want to, but when you asked for it… I couldn’t possibly say no. God, I want to do it again. I want you to fuck me with your tongue, and then when I’m soaking wet and open wide for you I’ll ride you until you come in me. And then I’ll fuck you, until you’re crying from overstimulation.”

“Yes, please, Yuuri!”

A tiny dribble of come spilled over the tip of Viktor’s cock, which was only half-hard without any direct stimulation for all this time but still releasing a bit of fluid with his intensely strong orgasms. Yuuri wanted to see him come dry, and then completely soft; it was so much easier for Viktor to come like this and every time he did, Yuuri was fascinated with how well Viktor’s body responded, how strongly it took pleasure, how easily it came to climax.

Yuuri ran his finger up the underside of Viktor’s cock, and Viktor twitched, his hands coming down from their grip on the headboard to try and push Yuuri’s away. “Too much?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor nodded tightly.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Viktor didn’t respond, but after a moment he pulled his hands away and shakily lifted them back to the headboard. The gesture was clear -- _do what you want to me_ \-- but Yuuri checked in again.

“You want me to touch your cock? Even though you’re this sensitive?”

Viktor gave one quick nod.

Yuuri only used two fingers on him, brushing up and down his cock, lightly touching the head; Viktor turned his head to one side, and he grit his teeth and shut his eyes tight, shaking in the overwhelming pleasure-pain.

Yuuri considered, for a moment, if he could do more. If he _should_ do more. If there was more he could do to absolutely wreck Viktor. And of course, there must be.

He moved quickly, removing the toy from Viktor’s ass in the same move that he removed the attachment from the wand, and Yuuri tossed the attachment to the side before pressing the vibrating head to the tip of Viktor’s cock. He held the toy tight to Viktor’s cock, and Viktor’s eyes flew open wide in the moment before he screamed.

This was the moment Viktor was completely helpless, and he couldn’t have fallen apart any more beautifully. He went lax on the bed, boneless under Yuuri, little gasps and loud groans escaping his lips.

Viktor couldn’t come again, not like this; he could feel it, but he couldn’t find the words to say so. Still, he didn’t want Yuuri to stop. This was what he had asked for; to be fucked with this frighteningly intense toy until he got used to it, and he wasn’t anywhere near used to it yet, so he had no intentions of letting Yuuri stop.

That was the last moment Viktor remembered.

He awoke the next morning, thirsty and sore but not groggy or in a pre-migraine haze, so Yuuri must have gotten something hydrating into him after he decided their impromptu scene was over. Viktor was a little disappointed he couldn’t remember his Yuuri taking care of him, but he had plenty more chances to experience Yuuri’s gentle aftercare.

Viktor opened his eyes to see Yuuri asleep beside him; on the pillow between them was Yuuri’s right hand, palm up, and his ring glittered in the early morning light.

Early… no, it must be late morning, with the sun shining at that angle. They hadn’t set an alarm; no need, what with this being their day off.

Viktor decided he and Yuuri were too far apart, and he snuggled closer, resting his head on the pillow above Yuuri’s arm, wrapping his own limbs around Yuuri’s warm, sleeping body. Yuuri stirred, but didn’t wake immediately, so Viktor watched him sleep for a while.

Yuuri’s hair had gotten long in the time they’d been apart, and it spilled over the pillow, soft and fluffy but still silky to the touch, a deep black that caught the light in almost iridescent ways; this morning it had a hint of brown from the orangey light filtering in through yellowing blinds. His cheeks and nose were slightly pink, which softened his round features further, even more than his restful expression did, and his long eyelashes cast miniscule shadows. His lips were very slightly parted, just at the very center, like he was preparing for a kiss, even in his sleep. So Viktor did kiss him, softly, not trying to wake Yuuri up but not minding terribly if he did.

Yuuri did rouse at that, with a deep breath and a content sigh. “Vitya.”

“Yuuri. My sunshine.”

“Hm?” Yuuri’s eyebrows scrunched together before his eyes fluttered open.

Viktor had said the latter part in Russian, because he liked how it sounded, but he explained the meaning to Yuuri, who blushed cutely before stroking soft fingertips over his face. “I take it you feel good after last night?”

Viktor grinned. “I feel incredible. But I’m afraid I blacked out, you got me too drunk on pleasure. I don’t remember how it ended, after you held the magic wand against my cock.”

Yuuri made a grumbly little noise in the back of his throat. “It’s too early for words like that.” He moved in closer anyway, and kissed the side of Viktor’s neck, over a mark Viktor didn’t remember him leaving. “I stopped not too long after that; I could tell you weren’t really all there. And then I rubbed your legs, I think I sat on them too hard and they fell asleep, and I got you to drink some juice, and I cuddled you to sleep.”

“I wish I’d been there for it.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gone so hard the first time we used the wand on you,” Yuuri wondered aloud.

“Mm-mm, I loved it.” He pulled Yuuri in all the way to his chest. “Maybe you can remind me now of how you cared for me? My beautiful Yuuri.”

“Beautiful,” Yuuri repeated, with a little laugh.

“You are!” Viktor said, and he began to pepper Yuuri’s face all over with kisses, describing aloud the beauty of each spot his lips touched so Yuuri could warm with embarrassment and appreciation.

“Viktor! Oh, Viktor, _stop_ ,” Yuuri pleaded. “You’re the beautiful one, not me.”

“Nonsense. You’re gorgeous. And if you think I’m beautiful, then I would know beauty, right?”

“Well, of course _you_ think I look good, you’re my. Um.”

“Your fiance?”

Yuuri shifted in the bed, a small smile breaking through his features. “Yeah.”

Viktor admired his smile for a few moments, before it hit him. “Yuuri, do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

“How many people have been absolutely destroyed by your beauty?”

“Um. I mean… I know some people, well, I’m not completely clueless. I-I’ve been with people before, you know that. They wouldn’t have, you know, with me, if they thought I was ugly.”

Viktor did know; he and Yuuri had talked about their past lovers before, and they’d both been surprised to find that Yuuri had had more partners than Viktor over the years, but it didn’t matter past the necessity of open communication. Still, Viktor pressed on: “It’s more than your exes, Yuuri. I would venture to say nearly every person you’ve ever met has or had it bad for you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do you want to see my texts? I have personal confirmations from at least a third of your major competitors this past season, not to mention --”

Yuuri groaned, interrupting him. “No. That means I’ll have to let go of you so you can get your phone, and I’m not willing to do that yet.”

“We’ll have to take Makkachin out soon,” Viktor reminded him.

Yuuri lifted his head to check the foot of the bed; Makkachin was still sound asleep, her fluffy body rising and falling with sleepy doggy breaths. He laid back down, cuddled in Viktor’s arms. “We’ve got some time. Stay with me.”

Viktor smiled; he pressed his lips to Yuuri’s crown, and his fingertips brushed over Yuuri’s cheek and around his ear, resting at the back of his head and scritching gently.

“I love you,” Yuuri said, quiet, like it was a secret.

“I love you too, my Yuuri. I’m so glad you’re here, with me.”

“Mm. I’m glad, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> both illustrations are by [amarokster](http://amarokster.tumblr.com/post/171073932768/)
> 
> catch me on twitter [@nq_what](https://twitter.com/nq_what)


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